


Quiet Blessings

by thirtybelowzero



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: A lot of bad things happen, Angst, Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Kind of a slow burn, Mutual Pining, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, and bloodhound is in love with him, elliott witt is a moody bastard, the allfather isn't very nice to bh in this one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-10-20 04:21:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirtybelowzero/pseuds/thirtybelowzero
Summary: Elliott Witt has a soul that's becoming dimmer by the second. Enslaved by the urge to win, by the promises he's made. But when a new legend enters the game, Elliott has a hard time keeping himself in check.Kings Canyon is no place for someone as fragile as him.





	1. Chapter 1

Kings Canyon was a place for those who thrived on bloodshed; for those hungry for revenge and victory. Death was not permanent there, no, but it sure felt like it was. The pain was all real but the victims’ lives remained unscathed. The Canyon was no place for someone with a heavy heart and a white soul. Every person who left the arena, undefeated or not, would leave with new scars and a taste for blood.

But Kings Canyon was no place for someone as fragile as Elliott Witt.

Ever since he was a kid, Elliott was fascinated by the idea of the Apex games. The company had spent years mastering a new technology that would allow their contestants to still live after being brought down in the arena. They liked to call it ‘respawning’; which Elliott thought was an odd word. For years, he used his free time to create something that would help him if he ever got lucky enough to become a contestant. His mother dreaded the idea of her son ever stepping foot near that place.

_“It’s too dangerous for you, Eli. I can’t let you do that to yourself. Think of what your brothers would say.”_ His mom’s voice echoed throughout his head, still able to be heard over the music he had blasting through his headphones. He vaguely recalled trying to persuade her with the kind of money he could make from this, the fame. She still wasn’t having it. They’d always had trouble with money, especially after his brothers went missing during the war, leaving them with a burden that just didn’t seem to go away. After they passed, he became obsessed with the idea of respawning. His time had become more invested in his creations, almost starving himself sometimes just to work hard enough to feed his mother and pay for school.  
By the time Elliott had turned 23, his mother had passed. His life fell apart from there on. He had nothing and no-one to turn to except for his inventions and training hard enough to get into that arena. He had to get in. What else was he going to do? Sit there and let himself drown? He couldn’t do that. He knew she was watching over him, he knew she would hate it even if he went into the arena, but he wanted to know what it felt like to be on top of the world for once. He knew what would follow him out if he ever went through with it, but he was prepared.

_“You are the Apex Champion.”_ Boomed the announcer’s voice through the speakers of the arena. The static from the ring was giving off a pleasant burn from when he had gotten trapped outside it. His suit was torn, his hair a mess, a few fresh wounds and hands covered in blood. All he could do was smile; because this was who he is now. The drones circled him eagerly, taking photos and making sure to ‘get his good side’, as he requested. Elliott Witt had unknowingly become Mirage, the Holographic Trickster: the undefeated champion of Kings Canyon. He had hundreds of fans that loved to swoon over him, attempt to flirt with him, but his heart belonged to the arena. He had no problem with constantly risking his ass for his squadmates- especially if it meant being able to bask in the feeling of winning.

“Great job today, gang! I mean, really! We kicked ass. Now, who’s up for some pork chops? If you’re paying, that is.” Elliott had his signature smile plastered on his face as he and his two squadmates walked out of the main area. It slowly faltered when he saw the frown on the smaller girl’s face. Renee was her name. Pretty simple for somebody so powerful and terrifying. She preferred her nickname, Wraith.

“What is with you and your obsession with pork chops, Eli?” Elliott turned his head a little more so he could properly look at her. He was never able to get used to those eyes- a dull, glazed white that seemed to appear whenever the voices were holding conversations in her head. He could feel those eyes burning holes into his own. She was still quite a kick-ass squadmate, though.

“They just taste good, alright? Would you settle for whiskey instead?” Elliott didn’t mean to snap at her; he almost instantly regretting it when her eyebrows furrowed. Before the wraith could get out a response, their third squadmate clapped her on the shoulder. Everybody who competed in the arena was a little odd, but this guy took the cake. He was a towering MRVN model with a voice cheery enough to make someone want to blow their brains out. The screen on their chest displayed a smiley face.

“I am sure she would be happy to settle for some whiskey, friend. Unfortunately, I cannot consume alcohol. But I am more than happy to tag along!” Elliott and the girl just stared at the bot for a moment. Renee made a face that said she was reconsidering hanging out with the two.

“You know what, I think I’m just going to head on back to my place and take a bath or something.” His grumbles were unheard over the bot’s enthusiastic chirping. Elliott waved goodbye to the both of them before heading the opposite direction. He was in desperate need of something strong, especially after Wraith brought up alcohol.  
Before he could reach the front doors, he overheard some odd chattering coming from the other players who were standing together in front of a screen. He didn’t have a chance to think about it until Anita was waving him over. Despite having to be hostile towards others in the arena, and pretty much having to kill them, the legends got along just fine outside of the Canyon.

“What’s going on over here?” Elliott was greeted by a few waves and a pat on the back. He ignored it, wanting to know what everyone was tittering about.

“Jus’ overheard that we might be gettin’ a new competitor. Sounds pretty terrifyin’.” Came the heavy accent from Ajay. Elliott only frowned at that, to which she continued. “Everyone’s been seeing articles ‘bout this guy. He don’t look too nice.” Anita had a concerned look on her face while Octavio went through the photos. This person looked nowhere near human.

The Apex games had expanded across the world. While their first arena was the biggest and most profitable, they had smaller ones for other individuals that wanted to experience it, but weren’t able to get into the one reserved specifically for legends. As Octavio got deeper into the new competitor’s stats, everyone had gotten quiet. Even Elliott. They called themselves Bloodhound, a literal beast of the hunt. Their stats were better than all of the legends combined. This person could be a straight-up murderer.

Elliott didn’t realize he was thinking out loud until everyone was staring at him.

“Qué demonios, amigo?” Octavio’s tone was a little harsh. Sure, they all got paid to kill each other in the arena, but nobody dared to call the legends a murderer. This was all a game, anyways.

“Shit, I’m sorry. But come on! Look at them! Look at- just- ugh.” Elliott’s shoulders slumped a little while he watched the video of the hound becoming champion, wiping out whole squads by themselves; the way they went after their enemies like they feared absolutely nothing. Like they knew exactly where they were, too. “When do they get here?”

“Tomorrow, amigo. We’re in for quite the challenge. He’s been champion more times than you.” Elliott snorted at the comment, ego deflating just a little, but it was true. The hound was racking up more victories than most of them combined. Despite the several clips of them, nobody knew exactly what they were in for.

Elliott was finally able to get away from the group and find solace at his apartment. He was used to how cold and quiet it was, now that he never really had anything to come home to. The whiskey burned his throat. In a comforting way, unfortunately. He took a few sips from the bottle before setting it aside on the kitchen island and heading for the bathroom, stripping out of his gear on the way in. His muscles were beginning to ache once the day had come to an end. A hot shower would do the trick- it always did. It never helped him sleep, though.

There were nights where Elliott was left alone with his thoughts for too long. Left alone to stare at the bruises and the variety of scars all over his body from the arena, from his past. He couldn’t shake the feeling of pure dread beginning to settle in his bones. Even though he had won a game today, he couldn’t bring himself to be happy. He knew there was a storm heading his way. There was something heavier to deal with. And he sure as hell wasn’t prepared for it.

* * *

“Legends of the arena, I wanted to speak with all of you today regarding our new contestant.” It wasn’t even eight in the morning, and the legends had been called in to speak with the director of the games. Everyone was pretty grouchy throughout the whole meeting. Octavio was swearing in Spanish under his breath every five minutes.

“Did you just call us all here to talk about the new guy? We ain’t really having it today. We’ll meet ‘em when they come in later.” Anita interrupted, folding her arms across her chest. It was always odd to see her out of her usual uniform. She settled for a pair of track pants and an old jacket and her hair was a little bit of a mess. The director frowned at her before continuing.

“No, Miss Williams. I called you all in here to introduce you to them. They arrived a bit earlier than we expected.” The room fell silent, the legends immediately tensing. The door slowly opened, and only a few of the legends dared to spare a look at the figure now standing in the doorway. Elliott regretted being one of them.

They had no face. There was a heavy metal headpiece with a mask that hid it, a large hat with small ornaments and braided string dangling from it. The gear they wore seemed heavy, yet they moved without making a sound. Their mouthpiece seemed to be some sort of filter, a tube attached to a small canister that they had strapped to them. The most terrifying feature had to be the eyes that belonged to the mask. They were like goggles, glass-like orbs that seemed to turn red when the light reflected off of it. At first, it seemed that they would be similar to actual goggles, but as soon as the light shined right on them, there was nothing. No sight of a pair of eyes behind it. It was just empty. Completely black and almost lifeless. Elliott hated it. Even though he couldn’t see their eyes, he knew exactly when they landed on him. He could feel the way their gaze just bore into him. Their voice, however, was just as expected. Deep, distorted, heavy with some kind of weird accent that nobody had heard before. Elliott honestly expected them to sound like an actual demon. This was even worse.

“Hello. It is nice to finally meet you all.” “This is Bloodhound. Well, their preferred name. Please, make them feel welcome.” Even the director seemed a little nervous. Sure, he always got nervous around new legends, but this was new. Alexander scared the shit out of them the first time they met, but today he looked like he’d seen a ghost. Bloodhound found their spot at the end of the long table, but didn't bother to take a seat. They folded their arms across their chest and glanced at the legends. Elliott had to look away. He spared a quick glance at Renee, who seemed to be a little fascinated by Bloodhound. Almost eager to fight them.

“This didn’t go as I planned. I um- apologize.” The director shifted in his seat, straightening his posture.

“Biðst ekki afsökunar. It is quite alright. I understand if they are uncomfortable around strangers.” Bloodhound moved to leave the room, but paused at the doorway and turned their head to look back at the group at the table. Or so it seemed. Elliott once again felt those eyes on him. “I will show myself out. Good day.”

Elliott couldn’t bring himself to pick his jaw up off the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two is here! Though it's not much, I still can't believe how many hits and kudos my first fic has gotten so far. I really appreciate the love I'm getting for this! Chapter three will hopefully be up sometime next week. Again, sorry for any errors. Cheers!!

The bottle was empty. _ Bummer _. He had no reason to be stressed out. It was just a game, and Bloodhound was just another contestant. Another little thing that seeked the thrill of being on the top. Elliott frowned when he swallowed the last drop of whiskey, his stomach turning a little at the thought of having to go and buy another from the store so soon.

Renee hadn’t been making it any easier, either. She was constantly pestering Elliott for being a ‘coward’, not wanting to go up against Bloodhound just yet. He sat out a few games, watched from the sidelines as the legends were single-handedly wiped by the beast. Noted the way they moved, the way they… _ hunted _. It was almost inhuman. And they took pride in it. Took pride in their victory and the blood on their hands.

One thing Elliott didn’t understand was the mask. And the fact that they absolutely refused to do any interviews or engage with fans. They loved being champion, but hated the fame that came with it. They seemed to adjust to being congratulated by the other legends, but that was about it.

Elliott began to realize he couldn’t avoid the arena forever. He couldn’t avoid being a victim of the hunt. He eventually had to start working again; he needed the money. Needed the fame. Needed those boosts to his ego from his fans and fellow legends. The time he spent outside of the arena, he spent training. He wanted to make himself better. Wanted to be able to beat this guy. He had spent some time making small adjustments to his holograms and to his suit. He had always complained that it wasn’t durable enough. He also implemented night-vision into his goggles once the director announced there would be a more consistent and darker night cycle during the games, and harsher weather conditions. Snow, to be specific. The legends weren’t too excited about that. Octavio even made a comment that the cold weather would probably make his prosthetics freeze at the joints. Bloodhound didn’t seem bothered by any of this. But then again, they didn’t show any emotion as far as Elliott knew. 

The first match Elliott returned for was a solo match. The grasslands of the Canyon had been covered with snow, making it easier to track enemies but harder to see them since they all decked themselves out in white clothing. The blood was more prominent. Vibrant.

He avoided dropping skull town. It had become a major hotspot as of late. And from watching Bloodhound on the screen, it seemed to be their favourite place to drop. Elliott wanted to avoid them as much as he could. Landing somewhere quieter gave him a bigger advantage with the loot. He strapped a sniper rifle to his back, tucking a wingman into his thigh holster and keeping an automatic in his hands while he journeyed through the canyon. It was oddly beautiful, all white and covered in snow. Despite being dressed in as much white as he could find, he knew he would be very noticeable. It was hard to make his holograph device smaller. It was strapped around his arms completely and would occasionally glow a bright blue. His dark curls and tan skin definitely made it easier to see him as well.

He checked the small communications device on his wrist and frowned. The ring was closing in on one of the snowed-in areas, and there were less than half the players left. When he heard the small chime, and the booming voice of the announcer declaring the new kill leader, Elliott looked up towards the banners and his heart dropped. Bloodhound’s banner was displayed proudly for all to see.

Sporting nine kills while Elliott only managed three. And two of them made him lose some of his dignity.

The ring was closing in fast. Elliott wasn’t used to the way the wind bit at his skin and how heavy his boots felt while in the snow. It was definitely a lot harder to move around- he even got caught in the ring a few times, the electricity burning the skin underneath his clothes. He finally found a safe spot near a hilltop at the edge of the ring. He carefully unloaded his sniper from his back and settled down in the snow, peering through the scope a few times. He spotted something moving in the distance. Not too far from him, actually. He shuffled back a little, hoping to God that the snow would hide him enough. He peered through the scope again once he started hearing gunfire, which quickly subsided and all Elliott had the chance to see was Bloodhound executing Anita. A hunting knife piercing through her armour several times, and a final slit to the throat before she dropped to the ground, her blood quickly pooling around her body and painting the snow bright red. Elliott had never seen something that gruesome in quite some time.

Then they looked at him. Directly at him. The pieces of glass they had for eyes were glowing red- just as bright as the blood in the snow. It was like they knew _ exactly _ where Elliott was. The way their head slowly turned in their direction, the way their gaze burned into Elliott’s, even through the mask, was enough to send him running. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and slid down the hill the opposite way to try and find an easier path to get around them. 

He didn’t hesitate to shoot whoever came in front of him. He knew the gunfire would make the hound run after him faster, but he didn’t care. He needed to find a spot, out of sight. When Elliott knew he was being pursued, it was harder to catch up to him. His fight or flight instincts kicked in while he hauled himself through the ring and out into the open to find a spot. There were still a few people left, gunfire coming from left and right as he ran to the nearest tree to settle behind it. The final ring was announced, and there was no proper cover save for some boulders and trees. Elliott checked his comms. Four remaining.

_ Bang. _

Three.

_ Bang. _

Two.

Elliott double checked the banners, his blood running cold when he noticed it was still Bloodhound. He didn’t want to move. The wind was painful against his face and the tips of his fingers. He cursed himself for wearing these damn fingerless gloves. He was sure they were about to fall off. He knew everybody was watching at this point. The last two people left had all eyes on them. Elliott leaned his back against the tree, just now noticing the blood coming from his leg. _ When the hell did he get shot? _ His fingers were shaking as he gripped his rifle, trying to ignore the pain that was now starting to flare up in his leg. He tried to listen for anything. Footsteps, shuffling, breathing.

There was nothing. It sounded peaceful. The branches would click together whenever the wind blew, complementing the haunting howl that filled the air. He was too afraid to move, knowing damn well the hound could be aiming at him, waiting for the perfect moment to shoot him.

He wasn’t entirely wrong. It was hard to hide with all the blood he was losing. Bloodhound was perched comfortably on top of a boulder, staring down the sights of their sniper, trained on the tree the trickster was behind. They knew the man was afraid of them. Terrified, even. Most of their enemies would run at him, guns blazing, hoping for the victory. Elliott chose to flee. The decision caught Bloodhound off-guard for a moment, but they knew how to handle this. When the ring was ready to close, Elliott would have to run. They both would. This ring wouldn’t stop once it started. Once the alarm blared above their heads, the ring was quickly moving in on both of them. Hound strapped their sniper to their backpack and made their way down the boulder. He watched Elliott limp out of his cover, trying to move as fast as he could with his injury. Once he caught sight of them, he froze. Right in the middle, where he could easily be shot. That’s when the hound realized he’d never been up against them before.

Bloodhound didn’t hesitate to pop open a small device on their arm, pressing a few buttons. Something inside them surged, audibly crackled, came to life within seconds. They twitched and growled, their entire body thrumming with a newfound form of anger and revenge and _ lust _.

“Allfather, give me sight! Leyfðu mér að slátra!”

Their voice was demonic, inhuman. Animalistic. Elliott heard it; saw the way the beast’s body twitched and transformed, the way their goggles glowed a deep, predatory colour. Then they were coming for him at a speed that made his heart stop. His instincts screamed at him to run, but he didn’t. Renee’s voice played over in his head for a moment.

_ Coward. _

Elliott Witt was not a coward. He instead strapped his gun to his back and quickly slammed his hand onto the small device on his wrist, grinning widely like an absolute madman at the beast as he completely vanished, leaving a group of holographic decoys as a distraction while he got away. The tracks in the snow was a dead giveaway, but Bloodhound did not expect it at all. Elliott rarely used his ultimate- only when he needed to get out of tight situations or to throw off the final enemy. Bloodhound had never seen him use it before. They stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. The beast inside them couldn’t even find the human life that was standing before them. It was impossible. When the decoys finally disappeared, Hound turned to find Elliott standing behind them, rifle pointed at them and a smug grin on his face. Bloodhound didn’t have a chance to react, they were immediately sprayed by enough bullets to knock them down. Elliott was daring enough to crouch down to where Hound was, watching them slowly move back a little.

“Look who just got bamboozled! Look at you!” He seemed too proud of his own little trick. Hound just stared at him incredulously. They were glad he couldn’t see the look on their face right now. Hound watched the way Elliott’s grin got wider, until it was nothing but a toothy smile. It was the last thing they saw.

_ “Attention: Winner decided.”_

* * *

Bloodhound was quietly reviewing the footage in the lobby. They wanted to get an idea on how that just happened, and also what just happened. It had been years since they were so thrown off by something so simple. He never knew of anybody possessing this type of ultimate. Though they had read somewhere that Elliott grew up learning engineering, they didn’t expect that he would bring his smarts with him into the arena. Elliott was the first of the legends that had defeated Bloodhound themselves. It was a surprise. They felt such a strange feeling when they turned their head at the sound of all the commotion, reporters and fans and legends crowding Elliott and praising him. The guy was still bloody, nose and cheeks bright red from the cold, fingers nearly turning blue, blood all over him and a bandage wrapped around his leg until he was able to properly get it treated. He was bruised and battered, yet he still smiled like there was nothing wrong.

They tensed up a little when Elliott slipped from the crowd and made his way over to them, standing a few feet away to respect their personal space. Instead of bragging and rubbing the loss in their face, Elliott stuck out his hand, offering to shake. He was still smiling, but he was tired. Drained. Even though he won, he still congratulated Hound, then made his way out of the building. Hound was now more curious than ever to find out the kind of man Elliott Witt really was. The legends here were oddly friendly- their praises on Hound’s performance were duly noted.

“Sick death, compadre. I didn’t think Eli had it in him.” Octavio was practically bouncing in his spot. His mask was still on, but Hound could hear his smile.

“Your… ‘compliment’ is appreciated.” They replied politely, folding their arms across their chest. Octavio still seemed eager for action, still not exhausted after Hound spent a solid five minutes trying to gun the damn guy down. Before Octavio could turn to leave though, Hound stopped him. “Pardon, I do not mean to take up any more of your time, but what happened in that ring? With me and Mirage.”

“You saw what happened, amigo. You got bamboozled. Ha!” Octavio stopped being energetic when he noticed Bloodhound being serious about the question. “Eli’s a genius. The decoys have gotten a lot of us. I’ve worked with him for years and I still get tricked. He is a trickster, after all. Rookie mistake, amigo. Don’t worry about it.”

“Þakka þér fyrir,” Bloodhound breathed out, but still had questions. They had so many questions. “But, I still do not seem to understand him.”

“It takes a while to open that can of worms, be patient.” Bloodhound once again glanced at the screen where it was paused on Elliott’s victorious smile. There was something else there. They had seen it before. His eyes weren’t as bright as that smile.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter three is finally here! i am so sorry for having such a weird update schedule, i'm still trying to get used to this... first things first: i am absolutely blown away by the amount of love and support this fic has gotten! you guys are truly amazing, i'm so excited to keep writing and show you guys what else i have in store.  
second: i have a tumblr! you can find me at raideroverboss (a side blog, i follow from my main) where you guys can chat me up! i am currently looking for a beta reader (and some friends in the apex fandom...) so i can get some extra feedback while i'm writing, so if anybody is interested, please hit me up!! hope you guys enjoy chapter three!

It had been a few days since that game. Elliott was having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that he actually beat Bloodhound. He hadn’t used his ultimate in months, and he couldn’t believe that it had actually worked. He had his reasons for never using it, though: it hurt. Physically. He was never able to fix the problem, the cloaking device he had installed for his ultimate clung to him like a leech, actually seemed to suck the energy right out of him, and practically burned his body. It was painful having to do that, but it sure paid off whenever it worked. Only downside was that he would be stuck at home healing for a few more days before he could return to the ring. The bullet that he unknowingly took to his leg had gotten him pretty good- rendering him bedridden for a few days until he was able to walk without limping.

But his head killed. It hurt the most. The stinging pain behind his eyes and on the back of his neck. Even worse, every time he closed his eyes, all he saw was _ them_. The glowing eyes, the way they moved through the battlefield. It was all he saw lately; and somehow, it made the pain worse. 

After that victory, Elliott found himself wanting to go against Bloodhound even more. The idea of it was thrilling to him- knowing it could end in any way possible. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to beat them after that. Some things only happen once for a reason.

The other legends weren’t too badly knocked around so a few of them returned to the arena before the rest. Bloodhound was one of them. Despite getting their ass kicked, they kept fighting. Elliott watched from the comfort of his too-small couch, wrapped in a thick blanket to keep himself warm. He would always switch between drones to watch every legend, but this time, he only locked onto Hound, watching them hunt down their prey and declare themselves champion two times in a row. The way they would look directly into the camera of the drone was almost haunting. They knew somebody was watching, Elliott could almost feel their gaze on him through the screen. Like they were actually looking right at him. He turned the television off. 

Elliott wondered what was underneath that mask. Surely they had good reason to hide themselves; but Elliot wanted to know why. Hound had been in the games for quite some time now, and nobody had ever seen their face. Nobody was ever able to catch them slip up. They were pretty careful and extremely private about anything related to them. Even their damn bird got defensive whenever anybody tried to ask them a personal question.

The countless times Elliott has caught the Hound talking to their bird was ridiculous. They treated it like it was an actual person. He wasn’t the one to judge, though. Elliott spoke to himself a lot. A _ lot _. After losing everything he had in life, he didn’t really have anybody to talk to, and he wasn’t very open with the other legends.

He had a problem with zoning out. He didn’t realize he had been standing in front of his bathroom mirror for the past fifteen minutes, in nothing but his boxers with the water running in the shower. It was cold by now. For a moment, he didn’t really remember what he was doing. When he did, he shut the water off and retreated back to his bedroom. He stopped for a second though, glancing at himself in the mirror. There were bruises forming all over his body from the recent match. A range of scars, old and new, scattered along his body. He would’ve had more, but the doctors did a decent job patching up the legends. Unfortunately, some scars just wouldn’t go away.

Despite the way Elliott acted in public, confident, flirty, charming, he wasn’t really like that. It was all a facade. All Mirage. In reality, he wasn’t happy. No family, no close friends, nobody to trust, it hurt being alive. He hated looking at himself in the mirror every morning, but he had to keep going. He promised his mom he would keep going. He couldn’t break a promise.

Elliott practically dragged himself to the bedroom, letting out a relieved sigh once his head hit the pillow. He dragged a hand down his face, squeezing his eyes shut before laying there awake. The hunter’s voice echoed inside his head, the deep red glow haunting the back of his mind. It was going to be another long, sleepless night.

* * *

“Arthur, sækja mér eitthvað.” The bird squawked quietly, shuffling a little where he was perched on Hound’s arm. They brought up a hand to gently smooth his feathers. “Something nice. Glandsandi.” Hound watched as their bird took off, sitting back against the chair they had settled down on the front porch of their home. They had a small space far from civilization. Quiet. Isolate. Nobody even knew they lived here except for the director of Apex. For contact purposes and also money. This was the one place they could feel safe at. The one place they could relax _ without _ the mask. Without being a beast.

Arthur came back not long after being sent off. Hound opened their palm and watched as he dropped a small pendant into it. It was covered in dirt, but after taking a moment to clean it off, they were satisfied with the find. They tucked it into their pocket and watched their bird settle down with them on the back of the chair. Kings Canyon was a challenge- these legends were more experienced in hands-on combat than they were. Hound had been trained to hunt, to defend themselves, to gun down contestants. They felt like they would need more training before any bigger games. One thing they couldn’t stop thinking about though was the trickster. The way he fooled them with that little magic trick of his. Ironic. Hound chuckled a little, startling Arthur.

“Fyrirgefðu. Settle down.” Arthur cawed quietly, ruffling his feathers for a moment before he finally relaxed. “Mirage. Quite interesting, yes?” They got a small coo in response. “I may ask for his assistance with some training. He is very skilled.” Hound went quiet for a moment, their mind wandering. They had been thinking about their final moments with Mirage ever since. The way he handled his weapons, how he still managed to keep going with such a nasty wound. The victorious smile, such sad eyes. Hound furrowed their brows at that thought. Sure, all of the other legends had quite dark pasts, some more than others, but Mirage’s was almost as nonexistent as theirs. His siblings going missing during the Frontier War, his mother passing not too long ago. “He’s interesting. Myndarlegur.” A small, confused caw brought them out of their thoughts. They didn’t realize what they had just said until now. They turned their head to meet Arthur’s gaze. He was staring at them intensely, not liking what they had just said.

* * *

Elliott was back in the arena a week later. His leg had finally healed up enough for him to walk around without limping. It still hurt like hell, though. Despite reassuring Ajay and the director that he was ready to jump back into the arena, he wasn’t even sure if he was going to survive today. His mind was cloudy and his head was pounding. He just wanted to crawl back into bed.

“Eli! Welcome back, brotha’!” Makoa was the first to notice him, which got everyone else’s attention. Elliott forced a big smile for them all, settling down beside Octavio, who had his signature mask off and was shovelling mashed potatoes into his mouth. Elliott grimaced, then took a quick look around. Bloodhound was nowhere to be seen, despite the game starting in an hour. Then Elliott locked eyes with Renee who was sitting directly across from him. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to figure out what seemed so off about him today. If she figured it out, she didn’t say anything. Her eyes weren’t leaving their signature ghostly state. The voices must be chatterboxes today.

“What’s the game today?” Elliott asked, tearing his gaze from the wraith to look at the other legends. Anita shrugged her shoulders, looking up from where she was cleaning her gun.

“Squads, I think. But since solos went so well last time, that might also be in play today. The director seemed pleased by our performances. Especially yours.” Anita looked at Elliott for a moment before back down at her weapon. She had something to say, he could tell, but he wasn’t going to ask. Everyone had their eyes on Elliott when he stood up to walk away. Renee furrowed her brows and shared a quick look with Anita, who jerked her head in the trickster’s direction. Renee quickly stood up and followed him, grabbing his arm once they were out of earshot from the other legends.

“What is going on with you today? You’re less annoying than usual.” Renee usually wasn’t the kind of person to lay things out gently. Elliott was used to it by now.

“Ouch, I’m hurt.” Elliott huffed sarcastically, then gave her a grin. She still wasn’t having it. “It might just be the meds I’m on for the pain, alright? Makes me a little mopey.” A lie, but he’d rather keep the truth to himself. He didn’t want to complicate things in the arena.

Once she had left him alone after interrogating him for a few more moments, he went off to ready himself for the arena. The director announced that their game would be squads today, and Elliott was, surprisingly, dreading it. While shrugging on his gear, he glanced down at his communications device to see who he would be paired up with. Wraith and Bloodhound. He paused for a moment. _ Bloodhound _. The image of their banner made him tense up. He had no reason to be nervous, though. Apparently the hound was a good squadmate, carried a few of the legends to victory on their own. Why did they make him so nervous?

As if on cue, Bloodhound walked into the lobby, quietly fixing the tubing on their helmet. When they noticed Elliott standing there by the gear, they approached him without hesitation, stopping a respectable distance.

“Mirage. It is nice to see you back on your feet again. I look forward to working with you, félagi. Are you sure you are well enough to fight today?” Even though their voice was distorted by the mask, they still sounded genuine. He could suddenly feel heat rising to his cheeks. What the _ hell _ was wrong with him today?

“Um, I-I’m doing fine. I should be alright to fight. Nothing’s gonna stop me from bamb- ba-ba… foolin’ enemies.” Elliott’s mouth spread into a wide grin, trying to counter the colour that was starting to fill his face. Bloodhound just nodded, deciding to not keep the conversation going.

They started to load on their gear, keeping quiet while the other two squadmates made conversation. They could feel eyes on them, and they knew exactly who was looking. When Wraith wasn’t paying attention, Elliott found himself staring at the hunter. Watching as they moved about swiftly, fixing their helmet, tightening the straps of their holster, the laces on their boots. He didn’t even know why he was staring. There was nothing appealing about the hunter. _ Right? _ His gut twisted a little while he watched Hound twirl a hunting knife between their fingers and sheath it in their boot in one fluid motion. Then their head slowly turned in Elliott’s direction, causing his entire face to flush and he immediately panicked, trying to find something to do so it didn’t seem like he was staring at them the whole time. All he ended up doing was tripping over himself and knocking over a bunch of gear before landing on the floor, getting tangled with the oxygen tanks. _ Nice going, Eli. Just great. _ His cheeks flushed a deeper red when he heard a few chuckles coming from the other legends.

He didn’t expect Bloodhound to extend a hand out to him, offering to help him up. Elliott sighed, debating refusing it just for the sake of his pride, but he couldn’t do that. After some hesitation, he clasped his hand with the hunter’s and let himself be hauled up. Their hands felt warm, even with the gloves on. Elliott was sure he was the colour of a cherry by now.

“Are you sure you’re alright, félagi?” Elliott definitely felt like an idiot now. He fixed his hair and dusted himself off, giving Hound a smile.

“I’m just fine, don’t worry.”

He wasn’t fine.

Two kills. _ Two _. He had gone down quite a few times, too distracted to fight properly. Thankfully Bloodhound was there all those times to wipe the squads and pick him back up. The way their hands felt on the back of his neck while they kept him upright, jabbing the syringe into him to bring him back into the battle. The way they whispered to him that it was not his time. Elliott would be thinking about that for a while. Wraith had been eliminated near the beginning of the match and her banner timed out before they could get to it, so it was just the two of them. The hunter seemed to never leave Elliott’s side, keeping a close eye on him and trying their best to stay within arm’s reach. They could tell something was up, that Elliott wasn’t in good enough shape for the games today. They felt such an overwhelming desire to keep him safe. To protect him. To win for him.

The two of them were lucky enough to survive up until the top three. There was gunfire near them from two other squads battling it out while they both his away from the action. They had a pretty big problem: they had no meds, and Elliott was definitely bleeding out. Anita managed to land a shot on him before Hound got to her. Elliott was seeing stars as the hunter practically carried him behind the hill to try and patch him up. The director thought it would be interesting to make everything a little more realistic. Make the pain more realistic. Even Bloodhound thought the idea was a little… sadistic.

“Sit still, félagi. Let me heal you.” Bloodhound murmured, their breathing heavy through their mask. They fumbled through their backpack, trying to find any type of meds. No luck. Not even a syringe, not even a shield cell to prevent the trickster from being killed instantly. Hound cursed loudly, startling Elliott. “I am sorry. I have nothing for you.” They sounded guilty. Elliott frowned, furrowing his eyebrows. Mostly from the pain.

“Hey, don’t worry a-about it. Shit.” He let out a loud, pained gasp when he shifted just the slightest. Hound seemed to panic, their hands coming out to make him sit still. “Who’s fuckin’ idea was it to make it this bad? O-Oh god.”

“Please, stop moving.” Hound paused for a moment, then began digging vigorously through both of their bags once more until they finally found some bandages hiding at the bottom of Elliott’s. They didn’t hesitate to start tending to his wound, trying to ignore the pained sounds the trickster was making. “Ég sagði þér að sitja kyrr.” They grumbled, but their touch became more gentle. Elliott had a few pretty nasty wounds: one going down his leg from slipping down a rocky hill, one on his arm from scraping it against pavement while running from another squad, and the bullet wound in his side that Anita gave him. She was a damn good shot. Hound’s touch was ten times more gentle when it came to wrapping up the bullet wound, hoping it was tight enough to stop the bleeding, even if it were just for a short while.

There was the sudden crack of a sniper rifle that filled the air. It sounded too close for comfort. Hound’s instincts immediately kicked in and they scanned the area, relaxing once they found it was clear. Their gaze fell on Elliott once again, watching him quietly as his chest rose and fell slowly. Elliott refused to open his eyes, not really wanting to deal with the pain just yet. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get up and fight, even if it meant winning the game. Hound’s clothing was soaked in his blood. Despite being the bloodthirsty being they were- _ hah, _ they still didn’t like having blood on their hands. Especially if it belonged to the last person they wanted it to. _ It was just a game. They would see him again after. _

“Hound, you-... you gotta go. You gotta get out of here.” Came Elliott’s raspy voice. He’d finally opened his eyes and was staring right at them. “Really. The ring is closing. I-It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” They knew they shouldn’t be feeling this way. He was just a squadmate, another contestant; but their heart felt heavy. Without thinking, they lifted their hand to move a curl out of Elliott’s eyes, unintentionally smearing blood on his face. He only grinned at the hunter. “Don’t go all soft on me now, Hound. Kinda need you to kick some ass.”

“I am not going soft.” They muttered, Elliott’s smile only grew at that. The alarm announcing the ring closing blared above their heads. Bloodhound stood, immediately trying to get the trickster up as well, who refused.

“I-I can’t. It hurts. P-Please just go without me.” Bloodhound shook their head, managing to haul Elliott up and sling his arm around their shoulder. They had to get him into the ring at least. The hunter quickly checked their comm for the stats. Three more squads left, including them. The sound of that sniper rifle filled the air again shortly followed by heavy gunfire. Two more left. Bloodhound carefully carried Elliott to a safe place behind a large boulder and carefully sat him down again.

“Please, stay here.” Bloodhound paused for a moment, their gaze focused on Elliott until they looked away and stood. He wasn’t sure how to react to this, just remained silent as he watched the hunter get up and activate his ultimate. The ground below them shook, the hunter’s body twitching in response. That voice that will forever haunt him called upon their god, the Allfather. Whatever squad was left had a big storm coming. Seeing the activation from afar was terrifying, but up-close? Downright _ hot _.

He cursed himself mentally for that.

Elliott leaned against the boulder, the cold surface cooling his body down. He was losing a lot of blood and his mind was definitely wandering. He could still feel the hunter’s touch even though it wasn’t there. Not long after the gunshots had started up again, he heard footsteps near him. Thinking it was the hunter, he made the mistake of peeking out from behind the cover, only to have his face be met with the end of a gun and a spray of bullets to his chest.

Bloodhound had been up against more enemies than the two squads that were remaining. Both of the remaining teams were a duo. One was Caustic and Wattson, who were just making their way around the mountains. When their presence was highlighted by their ultimate, The hunter quickly switched to their sniper, getting a few headshots on the younger woman, watching her go down with a cry. Even with the area filling up with Caustics gas so he could attempt to revive her, Bloodhound could still see everything. They switched back to their rifle, sliding around the gas and loading a full clip into the scientist.

The gunfire had gotten the last squad’s attention. The hunter yelped, scrambling for cover when their shield ate up a few bullets. They hissed at the burn that ran through their entire arm, digging through one of the crates and quickly popping a shield battery. They blindly loaded a new magazine into their rifle, fingers twitching when it clicked home. The footsteps grew louder, their heartbeat picked up. Bloodhound quickly grabbed a shotgun to replace their sniper, managing to load in a few shells before nailing the assailant right in the head as soon as they rounded the corner. They went down immediately, and the hunter didn’t hesitate to unsheath the knife in their boot, throwing it directly between their eyes to finish them off.

There was still an enemy left, and they couldn’t find them. Until they killed Mirage. The sound of the trickster’s banner being available for pickup made their blood boil. Bloodhound took a moment to reload their weapons before making their way back over to where they left him. They were picking up recent footsteps, then their ears caught the sound of a shield battery charging. The last person was caught off guard, the MRVN bot had just popped the battery just as the hunter rounded the corner. They didn’t hesitate to load a full clip into the robot, their shield eating up a good amount of the returning fire. The announcer’s voice blared above them, announcing Bloodhound as the champion. They let out a breath they didn’t realize they were holding in, an unbelievable amount of weight lifting off of their shoulders.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here is chapter 4!!! it's not the best, im not too happy with this chapter, and im still not sure where im going with this whole thing yet but i think it's getting there... i have some stuff planned for the next chapter which will be up next tuesday hopefully.
> 
> on another note, i am SO thankful for the amount of support i have been getting. you're all amazing<3 enjoy!

When Bloodhound returned to the lobby, they were congratulated by the legends. Wraith seemed the most excited. Whether she was being carried or not, she always relished in the title of champion. The hunter’s blooming pride immediately deflated when he noticed Elliott was missing from the crowd. Ajay was missing as well. She never was unless there was an emergency.

“Where is Mirage?” They suddenly asked, not meaning to sound so panicked. The legends went quiet, and Anita suddenly looked a little guilty.

“Ajay had to go with him to the medical bay.” She said, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I hope it wasn’t my shot that did that. Ajay wouldn’t really tell us what was wrong, but with the director making everything seem a little more realistic might’ve been the problem. I don’t think he can handle pain very well.” Pathfinder’s chest displayed a sad face.

“Where is the medical bay?” Bloodhound asked without skipping a beat. Anita pointed down the hallway and before she could say anything else, the hunter headed in that direction in search for the trickster. A few of the medical personnel wouldn’t let them through at first, but they got lucky when Ajay saw them and asked they let them through.

“Hound. The hell ya doin’ here? You get scratched up or sum’?” She asked, looking them over. They were still covered in blood, just not their own. They shook their head.

“Where is Mirage?” They did their best to hide how worried they really were. The look on Ajay’s face told them they weren’t doing a good job at it. Ajay glanced towards the room Elliott was in, but immediately stopped the hunter before they could go any further, making the bold move of placing her hand on their chest to stop them.

“He lost a lot’uv blood today. He’s exhausted. Let him rest. I mean it.” Ajay looked sad. She was begging the hunter not to go near him at the moment, her hand still in place to keep them from going any further. No matter how badly the hunter wanted to see him, they respected the doctor’s wishes to let him rest, and turned the opposite direction to leave.

“Please, look after him.” Their tone was somber. It took all of their willpower not to run past the doctor so he could see him.

  


The amount of pain he was in when he woke up was unbelievable. He couldn’t hold back the pained gasps and groans as he slowly shifted into a more comfortable position on the hospital bed. His eyes burned when he tried to open them, the light too much for him at the moment. Every bone and muscle in his body screamed at the movements he made, telling him to stop. When he finally settled down and his eyesight adjusted, he took a look around the room. It wasn’t anything special- he’d seen the place a couple of times.

The painkillers had definitely worn off. His entire body was burning, like a fever with a temperature that just kept climbing. Elliott tried to sit up, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of there. He hated being in here. It brought back too many memories he’d rather keep in the back of his mind.

“Dammit, Witt!” He didn’t realize Ajay had come in until she said something. She made her way over to him, trying to get him to lay back down. “Quit it, you’re gonna pull the stitches. I’ll get you your painkillers in a second.”

“Do I really have to be here? It’s only a scratch.” Elliott muttered, watching Ajay move around the room. She walked back over to him, handing him a cup of water and a pill.

“Yes, you do. Anita got a pretty nasty shot on ya. And you don’t look pretty, either.” Elliott scoffed at her, swallowing the pill and handing the cup back to her. She tossed it in the trash. “You’re gonna be in here for a while. Do not try to leave before I let you go. I’ll kick your ass.”

“Heh, that’s cute.” Elliott did his best to smile at her, but ended up cowering a little when he noticed the look on her face. “Alright. I’ll just get nice and comfy right here.” He paused for a moment, giving her a sincere smile. All jokes aside, Elliott really did appreciate how much she cared for him. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. Get some rest.”

* * *

Elliott was in the medical bay for nearly a week. He wasn’t healing the way he should, and he had a pretty nasty bruise on his face from where Pathfinder butted him with his gun. He winced whenever he caught sight of himself in the mirror.

It was impossible to avoid what happened that day, though. The drones in the arena had caught the oddly tender moment between him and the hunter. His social media was blowing up with theories and rumours that they were together. Rewatching that moment when his brain wasn’t complete mush made his stomach do flips. The way they carefully pushed his curls out of his face, how gentle they were when they patched him up, the way they just outright stared right at him. There was no denying something else was there. Octavio had been teasing him about it ever since everyone saw the footage. ‘Two amigos in love’ he called it. The bastard.

He wasn’t expecting any visitors. Ajay had made it pretty clear to the rest of the legends that they should just leave Elliott alone so he could rest. So when the door suddenly opened and Anita walked in, he tensed up a little. She shut the door behind her.

“You’re not here to murder me, are you?” Elliott asked, sitting up a little straighter while she grabbed a chair and sat down beside the bed. She didn’t look angry, but she didn’t look happy, either.

“No. Not yet, anyways.” She teased, chuckling when she noticed his eyes get a little wide. “Relax, I’m just playing. I’ve been bugging Ajay all week to let me see you. I wanted to apologize.”

“Hey, there’s no need to apologize for being a damn good shot.” Elliott grinned at her, feeling a lot better when he saw her expression light up a little. She always loved getting compliments on her combat skills. “Are you even allowed to be here?”

“No. She’s gonna kill me, but, I needed to talk to you.” Her expression fell, eyebrows furrowing. “It’s about you and uh… Bloodhound.” Elliott suddenly felt a heavy weight settle on his chest. Anita continued. “That little… _ moment _you two had during your last game is a little dangerous. Cutting it pretty damn close to playing with fire, Witt. You know what happens if you catch feelings for someone inside that arena.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m aware.” Elliott muttered, avoiding making eye contact with her. He didn’t have feelings for Hound.

Okay, maybe he did. Just a little.

“You’re aware? You know if you two go any further with this it’s gonna be impossible to properly compete inside of the arena? You’ll be worried sick about each other, won’t be able to eliminate each other if you’re on opposing teams. You’ll both get disqualified-”

“I know, Anita! I know. Dammit.” Elliott took a deep breath when he realized he’d snapped at her. He didn’t mean to. “I’m sorry. Sorry.”

“I just don’t want to lose a damn good teammate, that’s all.” Anita gave him an apologetic smile, sitting back in the chair a little.

“Did you come in here just to pester me about that or is there something else?”

“Mm, Ajay told me you’ll be good to leave in a few hours. And Bloodhound was actually looking for you. Said they wanted to speak with you about something. They’re in the gym training when you’re ready to go see them.”

“Did they say what they wanted?” Anita shook her head, getting up from the chair and putting it back where it was. She paused in the doorway for a moment, turning to look at him.

“Take care of yourself, Witt. We’re all worried about you.” She sounded genuine. Elliott felt his heart sink a little.

As soon as she left, Elliott immediately got up and started getting dressed, ignoring the pain that suddenly shot through his entire body. Ajay could kick his ass later. He didn’t want to stay any longer. Truth be told, he didn’t want to see anybody until he’d healed properly. Until he got his thoughts together. He just wanted to curl up in his own damn bed and sleep for ten years.

Ajay was nice enough to bring him some of his own clothes, but they were pretty casual. An old pair of jeans, odd socks and a long-sleeve. A pair of sneakers he hadn’t worn in a while because he thought they looked tacky on him. Nobody had really seen him outside of his usual gear, so he felt a little naked when he put it on and left the medical bay to return to his apartment. It was a pain in the ass avoiding the medical personnel, but he managed to slip through unnoticed.

He stopped in front of the elevator, debating on whether or not he should go and see what Bloodhound wanted from him. He decided against it. He would deal with them later.

Elliott’s heartbeat was through the roof as he waited for the elevator, pressing the up button repeatedly. He stepped into it before the doors had opened completely, pressing the button to his floor and shoving himself into the corner of the elevator. It felt like it took forever to reach his floor. As soon as the doors opened, Elliott made a beeline for his apartment, struggling with the key for a moment before swinging open the door.

The smell of that cinnamon scented candle that he owned hit him as soon as he walked in. He closed the door with his heel before pressing his back against the cool wood and slowly sliding down until he was seated on the floor. There was an alarm going off in his head, his heart was in his throat. Elliott was finally putting together the pieces of the puzzle. He was falling for the hunter.

“Oh no.” Elliott took a deep, shaky breath, running his hand through his hair. “I am _ so _ fucked.” He took a few moments to calm himself down before hauling himself up off of the floor and heading for his bedroom.

He dug through his drawers and closet for the warmest clothes he could find, stripping out of his current attire and tossing it on the floor. He immediately felt better when he threw his favourite sweatshirt over his head. He struggled with his jeans, bouncing around to pull them up before finally getting them on, not bothering with a belt. Once he settled down, he winced at the sting that was coming from the wound, already regretting moving around so much. The pain seemed to intensify for a few moments, which nearly had Elliott toppling over. That, and the lack of food. He stood in the doorway, knuckles white as he gripped the wooden frame to keep himself steady.

"Come on. Don't do this to me, now. Come on." He mumbled to himself, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing the pain away. He didn't need this when he was about to do to the dumbest thing in the world.

The pain eventually subsided, and Elliott opened his eyes, releasing his grip on the door frame. Without a second thought, he grabbed his jacket out of the closet and shrugged it on, shoved his feet into his boots, and made his way to the door. Something stopped him for a brief moment. He paused, looking at the picture on the wall of him, his mother, and his brothers. Elliott swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat.

He tore his gaze away from the photo, scooping his keys up off of the floor and heading out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

  


Ajay burst through the doors to the lounge where the legends were situated. They all looked a little startled at her sudden entrance, even more so at the very angry expression on her face.

“Where is he?! Where is Elliott?!" She shouted, looking between the legends. They all fell silent, mostly from shock, which answered her question. “God dammit. I told him he wasn’t allowed to leave yet!”

“Relax. Did you check his apartment? He's probably hiding in there” Renee asked, closing her book and putting it on the coffee table. Ajay shook her head in response, folding her arms across her chest when the wraith got up and approached her. “Okay. Um… Tav?”

“Yes, amiga?” Octavio shot up from where he was leaning against Alexander, who frowned at the sudden lack of contact. Octavio gave her a bright smile. She sighed a little, already regretting this.

“We could use you if we need to chase him down.” Octavio seemed more than happy to join. He had a bounce in his step when he followed them both out of the lounge. Renee was quiet while Ajay bickered with Octavio about god-knows-what. She stopped paying attention to them months ago. Renee shushed them once they reached the apartment, ignoring the offended looks on their face. She knocked on the door a few times and called out to Elliott.

“Elliott? Elliott! Open the door!” The only thing that followed was silence. Renee could tell Ajay was just about ready to kick the door in. “Elliott, please! We just want to talk to you!”

“No, I want to kick his ass!” Ajay snapped, but Renee just shushed her. The three of them went completely quiet, Renee moving a little closer to the door to see if she could hear any movement inside. Nothing.

“Tav, you know how to pick locks, right?” Renee suddenly asked. Octavio was a little surprised by her question, furrowing his eyebrows at her.

“Yes, but I’m not going to pick Eli’s lock, amiga. I like to save my skills for more important things.” Octavio laughed nervously when they both gave him a look.

“Picking a lock to a building you’re not allowed to go into just because you saw high-level gear through the window is not important.” Renee raised both of her eyebrows at him. “Twenty bucks.”

“Make if fifty.” A shit-eating grin spread across his face. Renee rolled her eyes.

“I hate you.” She muttered, digging through her pocket for her wallet, then slapping a bill into his hand. He nudged her aside, pulling a bobby pin out of his pocket and crouching until he was level with the lock. It took him a few minutes, but he eventually got it and pushed the door open.

The silence in the apartment was eerie. The three of them were quiet, checking each room to see if Elliott was still there. Renee checked the bedroom to see if anything was missing. It was a mess, as usual. Everything was still there. Including his phone and his wallet. Renee found that a little unsettling. She walked out of the room and into the kitchen to where Octavio was making a huge mess.

“How long have you known him for?” Octavio asked, going through the drawers in the kitchen to see if Elliott left any clues behind. "And why does he own so much shit?" Renee ignored the latter.

“Since he joined. So, quite a while. Sure, he’s had his days where he doesn’t want to fight, but he always lets us know. He doesn’t just disappear like this, Tav. He’s been acting weird for days, now.” Renee huffed in defeat, leaning against the counter.

“You think he was kidnapped?” Renee gave Octavio an odd look, shaking her head. He shrugged, looking around the apartment some more.

“Security is pretty tight here. Nobody gets in or out of this complex unless they’re authorized.” Ajay said from the living room. Octavio’s phone began to ring. He immediately fished it out of his back pocket and answered it, putting it on speaker.

“You’re on speaker, Alex. ¿Qué pasa? ” He chimed, walking over to Renee so she could hear him better. Ajay joined them from the living room a few seconds later.

_ “I just checked with security. Footage shows him leaving about an hour before Ajay realized he was gone. He scanned his card to check out but he never told the guard where he was headed.” _ Alexander’s gruff voice came through the phone. He paused for a moment to cough. _ “He doesn’t seem to be acting weird, either. He’s fully dressed. Nobody is with him. Did he say anything to you guys before he left?” _

“No.” Renee answered, looking at Octavio sadly. “Anita was the last one to see him before he disappeared, but she said she just had a conversation with him about some stuff. She said nothing they talked about could’ve scared him off.”

_ “Are you sure she didn’t threaten him?” _

“She’s all bark and no bite. Most of the time, She said she just went to check on him. Did you check the bar, too?”

_ “Makoa called his manager. He said nobody has seen him over there, either. What do we tell the director? That he just ran off?” _ They’d never heard Alexander sound so concerned before. He might be a pretty terrifying guy, but he has a soft spot for the legends. Some more than others. Renee took a quick glance at Octavio.

“If he asks, we’ll just say he’s sick with the flu. We can’t risk the press getting their hands on this. That’s a fire we won’t be able to put out. Keep me updated, Nox.” Renee ran a hand down her face once Octavio hung up. “Fuck, Eli. Where the hell are you?”

“I’m sure he’s just fine, amiga.” Octavio was quickly tapping away on his phone, sending a text to Alex to have him round up the legends in the lounge. “Let’s go back downstairs.”

  


Once the legends were all gathered in the lounge, Renee had a hushed talk with them.

“We don’t know what’s going on. We don’t know where he is, but with all the bullshit that’s been going on lately, I think he just wants some space. I want you guys to keep an eye out for any suspicious behaviour while you’re out and about. And under no circumstances can the director catch whiff of this. Bloodhound will be in Elliott’s apartment in case he comes back.” Renee took a deep breath, looking over at the hunter who was standing behind the couch. “We’ll give him a few days, but if he doesn’t come back, then we’ll have no choice but to let somebody know.”

“Yes. I will keep you updated.” Arthur ruffled his feathers, shifting a little on Bloodhound’s shoulder. He squawked loudly, demanding to be noticed as well. “_ We _ will keep you updated.” Bloodhound gently smoothed Arthur’s feathers before leaving the lounge. Renee sank back into her spot on the couch, running a hand over her face. She flinched a little when Alexander sat beside her and placed his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. Her heart sank to the bottom of her stomach.

“I’m sure he’s fine. He’s a smart kid. He’ll come back when he’s ready.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Renee’s voice was almost too soft to be heard. Alexander stared at her for a moment. This was not like her. He never saw her this way before and it was a little unsettling. “He’s my best friend. Well, _ I _ consider him my best friend. What if he doesn’t come back?”

“He will. Even though he refuses to accept it, he has a family here. He will come back.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally decided to have things pick up a little... angst will definitely be a common occurrence for the next few chapters because i've been listening to too many sad songs lately :0) time for suffering!!  
S T A Y by Anton Vic is a good listen while reading this chapter. i had it on repeat while writing and it helped me with some of the pieces and also made me cry. enjoy!!!

The door was already unlocked when Bloodhound made it to Elliott’s apartment. The others must have forgotten to lock the door behind him. It saved them the hassle of having to pick the lock. Or kick the door in.

They were cautious when they opened the door, letting Arthur fly in first. He settled on one of the bookshelves, ruffling his feathers and patiently waiting for his owner to come in. Bloodhound shut the door when they were in, taking a look around and noting the mess that was left behind. Then they paused in the entryway, staring at the photo of a woman and four young boys. Arthur cawed at them from the living room, bringing Bloodhound from their thoughts.

They didn’t bother taking their boots off. Bloodhound inspected the rest of the apartment further without a word, making an effort to put some stuff away. They tried their best to avoid poking their nose in places it shouldn’t be; but they couldn’t help it when they noticed a small photo tucked into the corner of Elliott’s mirror. They carefully pulled it out to get a closer look.

It was a photo of Elliott and his mother. It didn’t seem to be too old. Bloodhound turned it over, reading the words scribbled in blue ink.

_ Happy 21st, Eli. - xoxo, Mama _

Bloodhound’s heart felt a little heavy. They frowned under their mask, placing the photo back in it’s respective spot. When they returned to the living room, Arthur was getting cozy on the bookshelf.

“Arthur.” He immediately turned his attention to Bloodhound. “Do me a favour. Go and find Elliott for me. Bring him home.” Bloodhound made their way to the window, opening it and tensing up at the cold breeze that hit them as soon as they did. Arthur ruffled his feathers a little before taking off.

  


“Why’d I have to do this in the middle of winter?” Elliott grumbled to himself, kicking the snow around. The wind was bitter, his fingers were cold. He wrapped his arms around himself tightly, taking a deep breath and wincing as the cold air filled his lungs. Elliott knew he was making a mistake running off like this- but he couldn’t face what was happening. Not yet. He was never good at dealing with his emotions. With the anniversary of his mother’s death approaching fast, the feelings he was developing for the hunter, that little voice in his head nitpicking everything he was doing. He was spiralling out of control.

Elliott slowly crouched down so he was level with his mother’s tombstone. The ground around it was littered with flowers that had withered from the cold, buried beneath the snow. He buried his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

“I don’t know what to do, mom. Please, help me out here. Anything.” Elliott mumbled into his hands, squeezing his eyes shut and just listening to the wind.

_ “You’ll be okay, my dear Eli. You have to keep going.” His mother’s hands were cold and frail while he held them. All he could do was shake his head, afraid to look at her. A finger lifted his chin up so he would. “My sweet, sweet little boy. Can you promise me?” _

_ “Promise you what, mom?” Elliott had avoided talking as much as possible, his voice was cracking too much. He was practically choking on his heart in his throat. _

_ “That you will keep going. That you will be strong. For me, and your brothers.” Elliott opened his mouth to say something, but his mom only shook her head. “I know you’re much stronger than you look.” A hand on his cheek, a trembling thumb wiping away his tears. _

_ “You think I’m strong?” Elliott choked out, forcing a smile. His mother laughed, which quickly escalated into violent coughing. He remained quiet until she stopped. _

_ “Of course you’re strong. You always have been from the very start.” She took a deep, shuddering breath, keeping her hand on Elliott’s cheek. “Promise me.” _

_ “I promise.” _

Elliott could still feel that gentle touch to this day. It had etched itself into his skin, one of the few memories he had left of her. He couldn’t break the promise he made to her; no matter how much he wanted to. It was the one thing that had kept him going all these years. Elliott finally moved his hands away from his face, his tears warm against his cold cheeks.

He heard a bird somewhere nearby, a soft caw that he barely heard over the wind. He ignored it at first, quietly staring at the tombstone. The next time he heard the bird, it was a loud squawk right in his ears. It landed on the tombstone, ruffling its feathers and startling him. Elliott yelped, letting himself fall on his ass in the snow. It took him a moment to realize it was Bloodhound’s bird. That _ goddamn _ bird.

Arthur stared at Elliott intensely, cocking his head to the side. Elliott glared at it.

“Hey, um… bird? You wanna get off of-” Elliott made a small gesture to shoo the bird away, but Arthur only squawked at him angrily, pecking his hand. “J-Jesus! O-Okay, alright.” Elliott shifted uncomfortably as the bird stared him down. Then, without warning, Arthur took off, flying dangerously close to Elliott’s face.

Elliott stared after the bird, eyebrows furrowed, muttering under his breath as he got up and cleaned the snow off of him. Eventually, he let out a sigh and figured he should head back. His bed sounded pretty good at the moment. He was exhausted.

Elliott gently pressed his fingers against his lips, then pressed those same fingers against his mother’s tombstone with a shaky sigh.

“I’ll be back, mom. I promise.”

* * *

Elliott slowly turned the key and opened the door to his apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible while he shut the door behind him. It was pretty late at night, thankfully, so the legends were asleep. He wouldn’t have to deal with an ass-kicking just yet. He didn’t bother turning the lights on, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it on the floor while he toed off his shoes and left them to dry by the heater. His legs felt heavy as he trudged into the living room, taking a deep sigh and glancing around. Despite being too tired to really process anything, something felt off. Then he heard it. The softest click of metal against metal, like windchimes far off in the distance. He heard slow shuffling, felt a heavy presence in the room.

Elliott spun around without thinking, immediately grabbing the person and slamming them against the nearest wall. He heard a noise of surprise. His hold on them was short-lived, and was countered by a fist to his face. He toppled backwards, a hand coming up and wiping the blood that trickled from his nose.

“You mother f-” Elliott was suddenly being tackled before he had any time to fully recover. He saw a brief glint of something red heading in his direction before his back hit the wooden floor, sending a jolt of pain through him. A pair of hands held both of his arms above his head, too strong of a grip for Elliott to get out of, no matter how hard he struggled. His heart stopped when he heard the all-too-familiar voice.

“Róaðu þig! Þetta er ég! Calm down! It’s me!” The grip on Elliott’s wrists never loosened. Bloodhound was hovering over him, had straddled Elliott in the process of trying to keep him held down. They were breathing heavily. Angrily. Their masked eyes glowed menacingly when the moonlight reflected off of them. Elliott’s entire body was heating up, his fingers twitching in their grip.

“What-” Elliott didn’t even get the chance to speak. A sharp, angry exhale from Bloodhound shut him right up.

“You should not have done that, Elliott. We were all worried sick about you.” Elliott could practically hear the _ especially me _ part of that sentence. He didn’t point it out. “Why didn’t you just talk to us instead of running off? The others are going to tear you a new one.”

“Pretty sure you already did the job for ‘em.” Elliott made the daring move of being cocky. The hitch in the hunter’s breath told Elliott not to test them. He held his breath, waiting for them to throw another punch. They didn’t. Instead, Bloodhound stood up and offered their hand to Elliott. He hesitated for a moment before letting the hunter haul him up and help him onto the couch. Bloodhound flicked on the lights and went into the kitchen, rummaging around before coming back with a damp cloth. Instead of handing it to Elliott, they seated themselves on the coffee table across from him and began to clean up the blood on his face. Elliott froze in surprise.

“Y-You don’t have to do that. I’m perfectly cap-ca- ugh. I can do it myself.” Elliott raised a hand to stop the hunter, only to have them swat it away.

“Hush.” Bloodhound held Elliott’s chin between their fingers to keep him still, being as gentle as possible when they got close to his nose. “Skítur. I hope I did not break your nose.”

“Feels like ya did, Hound. Jesus. Did you _ have _ to punch me?”

“You started it. It was self-defence.” The hunter protested, pausing to stare at Elliott. They earned a breathy chuckle in response. Elliott could practically see them rolling their eyes. “Sit still and let me clean you up, hálfviti.” They grumbled, their grip on his chin tightening a little while they cleaned him up. Elliott felt the heat rising to his cheeks, finally noticing how close they both were. His breath got caught in his throat.

Elliott felt cold when Bloodhound finally finished and moved away, the sound of their gear moving being the only thing filling the apartment. Elliott had such a strong urge to just pull them close to him again. He craved it. Bloodhound glanced at him, like they knew Elliott wanted to say something.

“You can talk to me, you know.” Their voice was gentle, despite the distortion from their mask. Elliott’s shoulders slumped as he sank into the back of the couch. “Why did you run, Elliott?” Bloodhound was patient, not moving from their seat on the coffee table while Elliott tried to find the words to explain what he was feeling without downright confessing everything to the hunter.

“I’m just tired.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but it wasn’t the truth, either. Elliott buried his face in his hands, taking a deep breath. He wasn’t going to tell them. He couldn’t. He suddenly felt the hunter tugging his hands away from his face, holding them tightly with their own.

“You do not have to lie to me, Elliott. Arthur saw you.” Elliott’s shoulders fell. He looked down at their hands. “If there is anything I can do to help you, please tell me.”

“Stay with me.” Elliott blurted without a second thought, eyes going wide when he realized what he just said. Bloodhound straightened up a little, but never let go of Elliott’s hands. “Just for the night. I’m a little terrified that Ajay is gonna murder me in my sleep.” Elliott got a laugh in response. It startled him at first. He never heard them laugh before. It was the most beautiful sound.

Bloodhound didn’t respond for a few moments and Elliott suddenly felt embarrassed.

“Y-You don’t have to! Um, I-I’m an idiot. I just wanted-” Bloodhound cut him off by squeezing his hands gently.

“Yes, I can do that.” They cleared their throat, finally letting go of Elliott’s hands. “I will stay on the couch. Let me know if you need anything.” It took Elliott a hot second to process that. He eventually gave Bloodhound a small, wavering smile. “You get some rest.”

  
  


_ Every time he breathed, his body sank further and his lungs burned. It was pitch black, the only source of light coming from miles above him, but he knew _ exactly _ where he was. _

_ He opened his mouth to scream, only to be met with water filling his lungs up. _ _ He tried to grab onto something that wasn’t even there. His hands were grasping at absolutely nothing, trying to pull himself back up. The light was further away now. The darkness was quickly swallowing him up, making his heart pound painfully against his ribs. _ _ Elliott begged. He tried to scream. Somebody had to come and save him. Right? _

_ He was wrong. He was suffocating. He was alone. _

_ He suddenly noticed a hand wrapping around his ankle and pulling him down further. _

Elliott jolted upright, his heart pounding and his breathing odd and frantic; scrambling backwards until he was pressed up against the headboard. His throat and his chest burned; almost as if they were still full of water. He clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the sobs that escaped him. His fingers then found his hair, pulling at it mercilessly. Bloodhound must have heard him, but Elliott didn’t notice they were in the room with him until they were right in front of him, moving Elliott’s hands out of his hair so he wouldn’t pull it out. He panicked at the sudden touch.

“Þú ert í lagi. Andaðu, félagi. Andaðu.” Their voice was soothing, their touch gentle. “Take a deep breath. It is just me.” Elliott was trembling intensely, not able to stop until the hunter was suddenly laying back down with him, wrapping their arms around him tightly and tucking his face into their chest. Elliott didn’t really have the energy to process what was happening, he just let himself melt into their touch.

He felt fingers slowly running through his hair, ridding of the tangles and calming him down. It had been a while since he had anything like this, but he felt vulnerable. Bloodhound was one of the two people to see him in this state and truthfully, it _ terrified _ him.

“Please stay.” Elliott’s voice cracked, breaking the silence between them. He heard the hitch in Bloodhound’s breath, their arms tightening around his body. “Please.”

Elliott suddenly felt them moving away. He felt his heart trying to climb up his throat, but before he could react and reach out, they stopped him. “I am not going anywhere, Elliott. I just…” Bloodhound shifted uncomfortably under Elliott’s gaze. “I cannot sleep with this mask on. Please look away.”

Elliott’s hesitated, but eventually buried his face back into the pillow and squeezed his eyes shut. He could hear the soft click of several clasps being undone, heavy items being set down on the hardwood floor. The sudden sigh that sounded _ human _ startled him at first, but when the bed dipped and he felt arms around him and a soft breath against his hair, he relaxed.

For once, he felt at peace. He felt… safe.

* * *

Elliott woke up alone. He slowly sat up, ignoring the pain in his side as he rubbed his eyes. He then reached out to feel the spot beside him. It was still warm, meaning Bloodhound must have gotten up not too long ago. Their gear wasn’t anywhere in sight. Elliott slowly slid out of bed, wincing at how cold the floor felt against his bare feet. He practically dragged himself into the kitchen, but froze when he noticed Bloodhound leaning against the counter on their phone.

“Hey!” Elliott didn’t mean to sound surprised. Bloodhound jumped a little, looking up from their phone and at Elliott. He suddenly felt his cheeks become warmer. “I-I didn’t expect you to still be here. What- wha-... um, hi!”

“Hello. Did you sleep well?” Elliott could hear the smile in their voice.

“Y-Yeah! Slept awe-awes- I slept great. Thanks.” He carefully moved around them so he could flick the kettle on, going through the cupboards to get a mug. Now that he was able to think more clearly, he finally noticed how much of a mess his place was. More so than usual. “Was somebody in here?”

“Ah. Yes. Ajay and Renee. Also Octavio.” Elliott huffed a little, tossing a tea bag into his mug and pouring the hot water into it once it had finished boiling, letting it sit. He turned around, coming face to face with the hunter. Well… face to _ mask. _ Bloodhound didn’t say anything, they just gently grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards them. Elliott stood inches away from them, his breath getting caught in his throat. Elliott had always wondered what colour their eyes were.

They didn’t say anything for a few moments. There was complete silence between the two, but Elliott found it comforting. It seemed that Bloodhound did too. They brought their free hand up, gently pushing a loose curl from Elliott’s face. Just like the first time they fought together.

Bloodhound’s heart suddenly felt heavy, an anchor pulling it too far down. They didn't want to leave. It had been so long since they had felt anything remotely like this, had anybody feel the same way. It was a dangerous game to be playing, but they didn’t want to back out. Neither did Elliott.

“Alright, kind of freaking me out a little. What are you thinking about?” Elliott asked once the silence had gone on too long, a small smile forming on his face when Hound jumped a little. They were being a little too quiet for Elliott’s comfort now.

“You.” Bloodhound said, gently taking Elliott’s hands and turning them palm-up, running their gloved fingers over the lines on his skin. “I am thinking about… you.” Elliott’s cheeks immediately went a bright shade of red. “I am also thinking about how loudly you snore.”

“Hey!” Elliott pulled his hands away, staring at Bloodhound with the most offended expression he could muster. The laugh he got from the hunter warmed his entire soul. “I do not snore that loud!”

“I am just teasing.” Bloodhound took a hold of Elliott’s hands again, unable to stop laughing for a moment. Elliott couldn’t hold back the goofy smile that was spreading across his face. It immediately dropped when he remembered last night. Bloodhound noticed it fairly quickly. “What is it?”

“Last night.” Elliott swallowed the lump in his throat, taking a step back. He was suddenly _ very _ aware that he was just in his boxers and a t-shirt with holes in it. He felt a little naked.

“Do not worry, that is between me and you.” Elliott felt a little relieved, but it didn’t stop him from panicking internally when he was finally remembering everything. They stopped Elliott before he spoke again. “And no, it does not make things weird.”

“You sure?” Elliott shifted under their gaze. Bloodhound nodded. Before they could say anything else, somebody was pounding on the front door. Elliott nearly jumped out of his skin, visibly paling when he heard Renee’s voice on the other side.

“Bloodhound! Open the door!” They glanced at Elliott, raising their hand to tell him to stay put while they answered the door. Renee looked a little disappointed when it was actually Bloodhound who answered, and not Elliott. “Is he here?” She tried to move past the hunter, but they didn’t budge.

“May I speak with you outside for a moment?” Renee looked like she was about to protest, but Bloodhound nudged her back into the hallway and shut the door behind them.

“He’s in there, isn’t he?” Renee folded her arms across her chest, a strange look on her face. Bloodhound couldn’t figure out what it was. “Are you keeping me from kicking his ass? He deserves it. When did he get back?”

“Last night. But, please, let him rest.” Bloodhound sighed when Renee’s expression didn’t change at all. “You can kick his ass later, but he needs to rest a little longer. Give him a chance to explain himself before you do so. Elliott had a good reason for running off.” Renee suddenly squinted at them.

“You already kicked his ass, didn’t you?” When Bloodhound was silent, she let her lips curl upwards in a wicked grin. She finally seemed satisfied. “Alright. I’ll leave him be. Bring him down later so we can talk to him, though.”

“Of course.” Bloodhound watched her leave, not moving from their place until she was out of their sight. Elliott was right where Bloodhound had left him in the kitchen. He had finally made his tea and was taking small sips of it. He looked up at the hunter over the rim of his mug.

“You should get going. I could use a few more hours of sleep before I get my ass handed to me.” He said once he set the mug back down. Bloodhound looked over at him, but they seemed hesitant to respond. They wanted to stay. Elliott could tell, so he gave them a reassuring smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later.”

“As you wish. See you soon.” Bloodhound gathered their things, pausing at the door. They could feel Elliott watching them. They replayed last night in their head, hand gripping the door handle, their knuckles were turning white under their gloves.

“Fjandinn.” Elliott suddenly heard them mutter. He watched Bloodhound drop their things on the floor. Their hands flew up to their headpiece, momentarily struggling to unclasp it while they made their way back over to Elliott at an alarming speed. Elliott wasn’t able to properly process what was happening at that moment. He heard the loud metallic _ thunk _ of their helmet hitting the floor before the hunter was right there in front of him, slamming their lips against his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you guys for all your support and for reading this fic! it's really kept me going!! <3 you guys are all so kind and i really couldn't have done it without you. sorry for any errors or weird formatting, my google docs has been acting up a lot lately.  
i've got some stuff planned for the next few chapters, including backstories and some other stuff but it won't be lore-heavy so my tags may be updated to fit it. i've been trying to figure out where to go with this fic but i think i finally figured it out. but!! if you guys are interested in what i have planned for the upcoming chapters, i have a pinterest board dedicated to this fic where i will possibly include little things that will hint at what's coming next:0) you can find it here: https://www.pinterest.ca/arakumi/f-quiet-blessings/


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter six. FINALLY HERE. i want to apologize for not updating in a while, been hectic. but i am in complete awe from the amount of support you guys have been giving me<3 you're all amazing! got a few things going on in this chapter, incluuuuuding some backstory for BH and my own little take on the 'allfather'... which will definitely come into play further down the road. i hope you guys enjoy this chapter!!  
my headcanon of BH's face is based off of this lovely piece of art here: https://samuraiaiai.tumblr.com/post/183009290659/so-here-we-go-again  
tw for mentions of slavery and implied torture. and uh... lots of swearing.

_ They had a fairly brutal life before the arena. Though it wasn’t much different from what they were already doing. They still hunted, preyed on the weak. Instead it was just animals; they had to make a living somehow. Off the radar, that is. _

_ Before they became a legend, there was something they endured that had scarred them to their very core. Came with its own set of physical scars, as well. It still haunted them to this day. Multiple scars lined their face, a very prominent and deep one near their eye from an incident that nearly made them blind. _

_ The first time was excruciating. Haunting. _

_ The next few times were nothing but a minor inconvenience. _

_ They relished the times that were easier and peaceful; when they weren’t bound by the chains around their ankles. Slavery wasn’t really normal around that time, but the amount of people that still practiced it was a number higher than they expected. Some people still enjoyed the older practices. The whips, borderline torture, punishments for doing the smallest things, albeit nothing, wrong. _

_ They had been planning an escape for years, but it needed to be perfect. That’s when he found him- Arthur. He had flown into their open window in the middle of the night and crashed to the floor with a broken wing. Despite him putting up quite the fight, they were eventually able to earn his trust. Well, after a few days. And multiple scratches. The hunter didn’t think something so small could be so feisty. _

_ He still put up a fight sometimes whenever they tried to help him. After a while, the raven became surprisingly gentle whenever he tried to defend himself, only cawing loudly, barely pecking at their hands when they tried to touch him. They appreciated the gesture. They spent endless nights tending for the bird more than themselves- wanting to give him what they wish they could have. They were gentle with him, smoothed out his feathers, brought him food, fixed his wing. He didn’t leave, even when he was finally able to fly again. _

_ The hunter stood by the open window, staring at the raven in awe. It stared back. For some reason, it seemed to warm their soul when the bird never left. _

_ “I think it would be polite to give you a name, instead of calling you fáviti. How about…” The hunter pondered for a moment, going through a handful of names that were always on their mind. “Arthur?” _

_ They earned a gentle, appreciative caw in response.  _ Arthur it is, then.

_ Arthur’s favourite pastime seemed to be finding anything shiny and odd for the hunter. Trinkets, jewelry, stuff they knew they wouldn't find any use for but kept it anyways. Finding the Allfather was both a blessing and a curse. Not to mention purely accidental. _

_ Arthur had brought back a small hunting knife one morning while they were in their little space, sewing up a large tear in their shirt. They jumped a little when Arthur dropped the knife into their lap without warning and settled on their shoulder. Their attention was now completely on the object in their lap, picking it up to inspect it closer. _

_ It seemed too oddly shaped to be any normal hunting knife. The handle was rough, made of splintered wood with gold accents and wrapped in old, torn cloth. On the side of the blade was engraved  _ Treystu á Allfaðirinn _ . They sounded it out slowly. The hairs on the back of their neck suddenly stood, and they felt a presence looming over them; despite being completely alone. _

_ “Trust in the Allfather.” They furrowed their eyebrows at the phrasing. It didn’t sound right. The presence suddenly felt stronger. Menacing. “What the hell is an Allfather? Some kind of God?” Arthur squawked nervously from where they were perched, shifting a few times to get comfortable. The hunter hissed when they accidentally nicked their finger on the blade. _

_ “Ah, fjandinn.” They brought their finger up to their mouth, pressing their tongue to the wound. _

The Allfather shall guide you. You shall shed blood.

_ They frowned at the foreign voice. After glancing around for a moment, they couldn’t find the source of it. Their gaze fell upon the blade in their hands again, turning it over several times. _

_ “Trust in the Allfather.” They repeated, running their fingers over the engraved writing. _

Yes. Trust me.

_ The voice was right in their ear this time. Arthur seemed to freak out as well, quickly moving to perch on top of the bookshelf moments before the hunter was suddenly lying flat on their back, staring up at the ceiling and unable to move. It felt like something was sitting on their chest; preventing them from breathing properly and practically crushing them. Their body ran cold, hands curling into fists and fingernails digging into their palms hard enough to draw blood. _

_ Then everything went black for god knows how long. They woke up in the same spot, their room a bit darker. Arthur was sitting on their chest and nervously waiting for them to wake up. Their head was pounding, worsening once they opened their eyes. Arthur cooed to get their attention, moving off of their chest so they could sit up. _

_ “I am fine, Arthur.” They mumbled, gently smoothing his feathers. Despite giving the bird reassurance, he still seemed concerned. “I just need to rest.” _

_ The voice that echoed throughout their head kept them awake at night. It sounded ethereal some nights. Other nights, it was inhuman. Hungry. Ever since touching that knife, they’d dreamt of unspeakable things. They dreamt of bloodshed. Of millions of faces and demonic entities. They dreamt of their Allfather. _

_ The voice eventually began to pick at their brain during the middle of the day, feeding off of their hatred and longing for revenge. It seemed to understand him, but it’s thirst for blood was not something the hunter could sate. They couldn’t do something like that. _

_ They hadn’t slept properly for days; constantly trying to keep busy to distract themselves from their thoughts. They were startled one morning from where they were hunched over an old book they had found in the library. There was a loud clatter outside and the sound of people shouting. They stood up, walking over to their window to see what the commotion was about. Their eyes landed on their ‘master’, who was arguing with one of the other men. They bubbled with rage. _

Him first. Then, I will save you.

_ They tensed a little when they heard that voice. It sounded like a promise. So, they listened. _

_ The first person at the end of their blade was the one who left the line of fresh scars on their body. The one who had chained them up and left them to rot. The one who had taken years of their life away and kept them in the dark. The Allfather made a promise to save them. They were desperate for any kind of freedom. _

_ “Guðanna sendi kveðjur. Allfaðirinn er hérna núna.” They growled, not even recognizing their own voice. The hunter pulled the blade from where it had pierced their master’s heart, quickly grabbing the key from the dresser and unlocking the shackles around their ankles. With their hands covered in blood, it was definitely a hassle, but they eventually got it. They sighed in relief as they opened and dropped onto the floor. They only had a moment to relish the feeling, though. The voice was telling them to run. _

_ So they ran. _

_ They ran until their lungs burned and they couldn’t see the past anymore. The blood had stained their hands, gotten under their nails. The image of those cold, lifeless eyes, would be with them forever. But, they didn’t regret it. _

_ They hid away as far as they could. Anywhere isolated was enough for them. For the first time in so long, they were finally free. And they didn’t know what to do. Standing inside a small, banged up cabin far from civilization, holding Arthur in their arms, they were clueless. And a complete wreck. _

_ They built their life back up from scratch. Arthur was a surprisingly helpful companion. Their only source of food and income was hunting the wildlife that lived around them. They would both travel to the city to sell what they had gotten, saving up enough money to get them through the months. _

_ Then they found the Apex Games. It wasn’t unusual for something like this to surface. Bloodshed for profit. Kings Canyon was the first of many; but they weren’t good enough to get into the canyon yet. They weren't a legend. _

_ Entering the games seemed to fix the bigger problem at hand. Their Allfather never left, but it was sated by the unnecessary amounts of bloodshed. The longer they kept it around, the stronger they grew. Though the killing in the games wasn’t exactly real, the Allfather seemed pleased enough to stop nagging at them. But it still whispered awful things to them throughout the night, keeping them awake. _

_ Despite telling the complete opposite, the hunter had a reason for their mask. They just felt ashamed. Afraid to show their face and the scars that were buried in it. They didn’t feel beautiful anymore. They lived in fear of somebody recognizing them and dragging them back to where they were told they belonged. _

_ It was a bumpy ride getting to where they are now, but they made a few friends along the way that helped them out more than they thought they would. _

  
  


_ “Spades, spare me some heavy ammo, will you?” Bloodhound asked while they rifled through their bag, unable to find any extra. The other man immediately handed them a full stack. Bloodhound graciously accepted it. “Þakka þér, félagi.” _

_ “Why do you call yourself Bloodhound anyways?” He suddenly asked. The three of them were holed up in a small house while war ensued outside. Bloodhound frowned under their mask. _

_ “It suits me.” They responded bluntly. Their squadmates laughed a little at that. “What is so funny?” _

_ “You're damn right it suits you. Considering you’re out for blood. And you uh… I’m pretty sure me and fire boy over there have both heard you actually sniffing while tracking down the others.” One of them said. The other grumbled at him. _

_ “Don’t call me fire boy.” He was a much taller man than the both of them. Dark hair, orange eyes. He was a walking thermite. Literally. He liked to call himself the Phoenix, but Bloodhound found that ridiculous and just called him by his real name instead. Jackal. “Don’t make me come down there.” _

_ “Is that a threat, lavagirl?” _

_ “You-!” _

_ “Both of you, settle down! And I do not sniff.” Bloodhound bristled, folding their arms across their chest. Jackal only laughed, looking down at them from where he was crouched by the upper floor window with his rifle. _

_ “Yeah. Sure.” _

_ “Rassgat.” _

_ “Language, Houndie.” The other squadmate was a mysterious fellow. Hound was even a little intimidated by them. They made sure not to show it. Everyone knew him by Spades. Around the same height as Hound, slim. His face was hidden by a simple mask and dark goggles, their only visible feature being his platinum-coloured hair. Even with his face not being visible, Hound just knew he was grinning at the both of them from where he was standing in the far corner. The loud crack of a sniper and a bullet whizzing inches past Jackal’s head put them all on alert. _

_ “What the fuck?” Jackal quickly moved away from the window, looking down at his squadmates. Bloodhound carefully moved to the window right below him, taking a look through their sights to try and find the enemies. “Where did that come from?” _

_ “Southwest. They’re in the building on the mountain.” They adjusted their posture, holding their breath before firing a shot. They ignored the pain in their shoulder from the kickback, quickly finishing off the enemy before they could move out of the way to be revived. “That’s one. They will have to push us if they want to win. We have an advantage.” _

_ “They know where we are. Let’s reposition.” Spades scooped his bag up off of the floor, loading a fresh magazine into his rifle. _

_ “We should spread out. You two keep them busy, I will flank them.” Bloodhound followed them out the back door, strapping their sniper to their back and equipping their rifle. Bloodhound took the long way around, keeping a low profile while the other two kept the last duo busy. _

_ They watched one of the enemies go down just as Spades did. Jackal retreated to revive them, throwing up his cloaking device to hide them both. Bloodhound saw the enemy crawling back towards their squadmate, and took that moment to attack. They took a deep breath, activating their ultimate with a growl. _

_ “Allfather, bless me with the sight!” _

_ The enemy duo immediately panicked upon hearing that. Bloodhound slid down the small hill, tossing an arc star to weaken them and watching the one enemy sprint in the opposite direction, leaving their squadmate behind. Bloodhound went after them. Jackal popped out from behind the cover he and Spades were holed up behind, finishing off the downed enemy and keeping his sights on the other while the hunter chased them down. _

_ “You good, Houndie?” Bloodhound heard him ask through their comms. They didn’t reply, their smile was wicked beneath their mask as they sprayed enough bullets to deplete their shield and knock them down. Before the enemy could have the chance to revive themselves, Bloodhound unsheathed their hunting knife from their boot, landing a shot between their eyes. without any sign of hesitation. _

_ Jackal and Spades both shared a look with each other as the announcer's voice boomed throughout the arena. _

You are the Apex Champions.

_ The two men never cared if they won a game or not. They were just in it for the fame. And to mock the other legends. Winning made them rowdier than usual, though. Bloodhound would never admit it, but they found it a nice little reward to their own ego seeing how happy they got. _

_ “That was a decent game.” Jackal clapped Spades on the back, offering him a wide smile. Spades only shook his head in response. _

_ “Decent?! That was a damn good game, Jack.” Hound stayed back and watched as the two of them walked away, bickering over who did better. They looked up at one of the lobby screens so they could review the winning footage. Seeing the Allfather take over them during those last moments always sent a chill up their spine. _

_ Bloodhound’s eyes shifted to another screen that was displaying a current match from Kings Canyon. They had always been intrigued by the legends that fought there. They were all professionally skilled. Technologically advanced. The cameras locked onto one of the legends, who went by the name Mirage. They cocked their head to the side, watching for a few moments. _

_ The voice was suddenly quiet for once, and it scared them. _

* * *

Bloodhound finally pulled away from Elliott, opening their eyes and meeting the stunned gaze the trickster was giving him. It took them a moment to realize they had actually taken off their mask.  _ And _ had kissed Elliott. Their heart dropped.

Elliott on the other hand, was internally screaming. He was trying his best to hold it in. He wanted to explode. Climb the tallest mountain and just scream at the top of his lungs. He slowly cracked a smile, one of his many questions finally being answered.

_ They were blue. _

Bloodhound was suddenly babbling incoherently in their native language, apologizing and just outright panicking. Elliott grabbed them by their hands, trying to get them to calm down. He was more than surprised when it actually worked, but Bloodhound refused to make eye contact with him.

Bloodhound had been fairly close with very few people in their lifetime; but none of them had seen their face. Saw who they really were. Saw the more human side of them.

Elliott somehow managed to see all of that.

Hound felt  _ very _ naked without the mask. With Elliott actually staring at them now. Staring at…  _ them _ . Elliott wasn’t speaking either. The hunter felt such an intense wave of anxiety and tried to pull away, but Elliott stopped them from doing so.

“Don’t. Please. Let me see.” Elliott’s hands were gentle, a little cold, but they didn’t mind. He was hesitant when he reached out, half expecting Hound to flinch away. Maybe even stab him. But they did neither.

Their skin was surprisingly sunkissed; it made Elliott wonder how much time they spent without the mask on. A thick layer of freckles painted various parts of their face, some had even disappeared around the multiple scars. Two on one eyebrow, one going through their lip, a longer, much more prominent one reaching from their cheek to their jaw. Another one dangerously close to their eye. Elliott traced each scar slowly; as if he was trying to memorize every little detail. His hand fit almost perfectly when he cupped their jaw, his thumb running along their cheekbone.

Despite wearing a mask the majority of the time, Hound’s hair was well-kept. As black as their bird, reaching down to their shoulders in messy, tangled waves. Elliott noted a few loose braids that were held in place by small beads; some of their hair was pulled back out of the way of their face, a few of Arthur’s feathers were hanging loose from the hair tie they used to keep it back.

But those eyes. Elliott couldn’t get over them. They were such a bright blue, an odd sight- especially after being so used to the deep red glow of their mask. Elliott was drowning in that ocean. He couldn’t look away.

“Elliott.” Hound’s voice actually startled him. He was so used to hearing them through the mask. He’d never heard their real voice before. It was deep, but so soft. His heart melted at the heavy accent. “You are making me nervous.” Hound shifted uncomfortably. “ _ Elliott _ .”

“Sorry. Just wanted to hear you say my name again.” He responded sheepishly, finally moving his hand away from Hound’s face. “Holy shit.”

“Am I not what you imagined?” They asked nervously, taking a small step away. Elliott just grinned at them, watching the blush creep across the hunter’s cheeks.

“I um… you-you’re just as goddamn gorgeous as I imagined, Hound.” He murmured, leaning in a little bit closer. He could almost hear Hound’s heartbeat. He gave them a sly smile. “You’re blushing.”

“Þegiðu. I am not.” They insisted, but Elliott didn’t budge. His smile only grew. Bloodhound always found his smile so contagious. They eventually cracked a smile and closed the sliver of space between them, pressing a very gentle and chaste kiss to the trickster’s lips.

“We are in big trouble, aren’t we?” Bloodhound mumbled once they pulled away. Elliott had completely forgotten about that.

“I mean,” Elliott moved away so he could lean against the counter, crossing his arms. “We could just not tell anyone.” He shrugged. “I’m not the kind of guy to kiss and tell.” Hound gave Elliott a look. “Sometimes.”

“That actually does not sound like a bad idea. Let’s do that.” The smile on Bloodhound’s face gave Elliott butterflies. He couldn’t help himself, grabbing them by the face and kissing them so sweetly that it almost had Bloodhound melting to the floor.

Elliott could have kissed them forever, but he eventually had to pull back for air.

“I really must go. I need to feed Arthur.” Bloodhound moved away, picking their helmet up off the floor and putting it back on. Elliott watched in complete awe, but he swelled at the fact that he knew exactly what the hunter looked underneath there now. They gathered up their things that were scattered on the floor, catching Elliott’s gaze from where he was in the kitchen. “I will see you later, elskan mín.”

Elliott waved to them, remaining quiet until the door shut. He waited for a few minutes before suddenly bursting with joy, ignoring the pain when it flared up from his movements. He didn’t care if anybody could hear him.

Eventually he calmed down, taking a few deep breaths to collect himself before he went back to the bedroom so he could catch a few more hours of sleep before having to deal with the other legends.  
  


He only managed an hour before jolting up with a cry. The nightmares were getting worse. Elliott groaned loudly, flopping back down and letting his head hit the pillow. He stared at the ceiling for a few moments before eventually giving up.  _ Might as well get up. _

Elliott grunted as he hauled himself up off the bed, dragging himself to the bathroom and flicking the light on. His own reflection startled him when he caught sight of it in the bathroom mirror.

“Yikes.” He muttered to himself, leaning over the sink so he could get a closer look. He still had a pretty nasty bruise on his face from his last match, eyes sunken in from the lack of sleep. He pulled back, digging through the drawers for his makeup. He wasn’t going to let the others see him like this.

He took his time, being as gentle and as thorough as possible. Though he wasn’t able to cover all of it up, it was still enough for him. He didn’t bother cleaning everything up; heading back to his bedroom so he could get dressed and head down to the lounge.

Renee was the first person to notice him when he walked in. Whatever conversation she was having with Alex beforehand was completely put aside. The look in her eyes made Elliott tense up. She was  _ pissed _ .

“A-Alright, before you murder me, give me a minute to-” Elliott held his hands up in hopes of defending himself. Alex even tried to stop her, but she was halfway across the room before he had the chance to do anything.

Renee’s eyes went white for a brief moment and she froze a few feet from Elliott, her expression suddenly saddening.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” She finally said, her voice only loud enough for Elliott to hear. Elliott frowned at her.

“You are one creepy lady, you know that? Tell your little brain to stop poking around so much.” Renee sighed, her eyes going back to normal as she pulled him in for a tight hug. Elliott winced, but decided to just ignore the pain for now. His eyes went a little wide when he noticed Alex’s murderous glare from across the room.

Renee finally pulled away, giving Elliott a once-over. Her frown deepened as she took in the state he was in.

“You look like shit.” She stated bluntly, but offered him a sympathetic smile. Elliott snorted at the comment, folding his arms across his chest. “It’s nice to see you back on your feet, though. But I’m sure you’ll be back in the infirmary once Ajay is done with you.”

“I’m pretty sure Ajay isn’t the only one that wants to murder me.” Elliott looked towards Alex again and Renee followed his gaze. The other legends didn’t seem too angry. They were mostly minding their own business in the other corner of the lounge. That is, until Ajay stormed in with Octavio following her.

“Ajay! ¡Espere!” Octavio was trying to get her to slow down, stepping in front of her in an attempt to completely stop her in her tracks, but she didn’t budge. “You need to chill!”

“Uh! Somebody stop the little lady! Please?!” Elliott took a few steps away. He didn’t think he could be so scared of someone so small. His back hit a wall too soon, and he braced himself for whatever was coming next. He squeezed his eyes shut once she raised her fist.

Nothing happened. He opened his eyes to see what was going on, his heart nearly jumping out of his chest when he noticed Bloodhound had stopped her before she could touch him.

“I understand that you want to express your anger towards him, but he has suffered enough.” Bloodhound seemed to loom over her, but she didn’t cower.

“What do ya expect me to do then, huh?” She stepped away, placing her hands on her hips. 

“You know exactly why he did this. Leave him be.” Elliott opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it when Bloodhound looked at him. “It may be best to save your anger for when you are in the arena against him.” Ajay was silent for a few minutes, but Elliott could see her expression soften.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Ya know I get worried ‘bout ya. We all do. You’re an idiot, but we care about you. Don’t do it again, ya hear me? Just talk to us. We’re family.” Elliott stared at her for a moment, moving his gaze across the room. The other legends seemed to silently agree with what she was saying, offering Elliott smiles. His heart hurt. He finally turned his gaze back to Ajay.

“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat, standing up a little straighter and raising his voice for everyone to hear. “I-I’m sorry. All of you. Really.”

“Now get your ass back to the infirmary before I drag ya back myself. Ya look like shit.”

  
  


Elliott was free to go back to his apartment once Ajay was finally finished with patching him up fully. She was able to fix up the majority of the bigger bruises on his face and his body using some weird-ass technology the director had invested in, but a few of them still remained. It didn't make him feel any better. Finding his apartment door slightly ajar made him feel even  _ worse _ .

He swore he locked it when he left. His heart was pounding as he slowly opened it and took a look around whatever space was in sight from the doorway. The lamp in the living room was on, but that was the only noticeable change. Elliott tried to figure out who the hell would be in his apartment. Maybe Alex was going to finally murder him. Or Renee. She seemed pretty keen on doing so earlier.

“Hello?” He winced when his voice cracked. He finally mustered up enough courage to step inside, closing the door behind him. Elliott unintentionally let out the most high pitched scream when Renee suddenly came into view from where she was rummaging around in the kitchen.

“Elliott! What the fuck!”

“What the fuck, me?! What the  _ fuck _ , you!” His voice was several octaves higher, his hands flailing about and making over-exaggerated gestures. Renee seemed more amused than alarmed. “What are you doing in my apartment?!”

“I just came over to see if you had anything to eat.” Renee’s tone was flat, but she had a look on her face that obviously said she wanted answers for something. Elliott tensed up immediately.

“No. No, you don't-” Renee folded her arms across her chest, eyebrows slowly raising. “You  _ know _ . You know! You know! How the hell do you know?!”

“Repeating it over and over again isn't gonna make it any less true, dude.” Her expression suddenly went cold. Elliott was really panicking now. “What. The.  _ Fuck _ .”

“O-Okay! Whoa-ho-ho. Relax.” Elliott tried to offer her his most charming smile. He failed miserably. “Let me just explain-”

“You  _ kissed  _ them?! Elliott!”

“W-Well to be fair, they started it! And you should stop listening to my thoughts!” Elliott threw his hands up in defence. “Please, please for the love of god, do not say anything to  _ anyone _ .” Renee scoffed at that, ignoring the hurtful look on Elliott’s face. “You can't.”

“You expect me to just sit back and watch the two of you throw away your entire career because you’re involved?! No goddamn w-” Her words were cut off when Elliott suddenly crumpled to the floor, his face buried in his hands. She stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do. Renee eventually made her way over to him, slowly crouching down to his level.

“I’m trying my best to deal with one thing at a time.” Elliott mumbled into his hands, not moving them away from his face. Tears were threatening to spill. He took a few deep breaths, holding his breath for a few seconds between each one, just like his mom taught him to do when he was on the edge. He finally lowered his hands, letting them fall into his lap. “One thing at a time.”

“What the hell is going on, Elliott?” Despite the harsh words, her tone was as gentle as she could make it. It still didn’t make him feel any better. “First that little mishap in the arena, then running off like that, now this whole thing with Bloodhound? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“Yeah, me neither. I don't know how to deal with it anymore. Now that she’s gone.” He muttered out a response, twiddling with his thumbs. He refused to look at her.

“Who? Your mom?” A nod. Renee felt something tug at her heart. She decided not to press further. “You know, we’re all here for you, right? Like Ajay said, we’re family.”

“Kind of hard to deal with this while everyone’s yelling at me and trying to rip my throat out. I just need time to myself. Like, a  _ lot _ of time. I just don't know how to ask for it, so I run away and hide like a child.”

“Sounds about right.” Renee huffed, earning a quiet laugh from Elliott. She gently placed a hand on his shoulder, finally getting him to look up at her. “I promise I won't say a word. Pinky promise.” She offered her pinky to him, earning a much heartier laugh in response. Elliott hooked his own pinky finger with hers.

“Look at us. We’re at the top in the games, and we're sitting on my fucking floor making pinky promises.”

“Hey, that’s what friends do.” Renee finally stood, helping Elliott up off of the floor. “And please, talk to me next time you feel like you’re gonna lose it. It really sucks seeing you like this.”

“You got it. Or you can just break into my apartment in the middle of the night and make me talk to you.” Elliott grinned at her when she laughed in response.

“Listen, I’m gonna talk to the director tomorrow morning and request some solo matches. I think it would be good for you to fight at your own pace for a while. And kicking everyone’s ass might make you feel a little better.”

“Aw, you know me so well.” Elliott gently nudged her with his elbow. “Now, get the hell out of my apartment.” He started to push her towards the door.

“Wait, wait! I was being serious earlier! I need food!” Renee quickly moved away from him, making a beeline to his kitchen. Elliott groaned loudly, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he followed her.

“I hate you so much.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you guys so much for all the love<3 i'm not sure when i will have the next chapter up, but hopefully soon. i've got a few ideas lined up for the next few chapters so things will definitely pick up. jackal and spades are both my own legend-based oc's that i've had for a while and decided to finally use them to fill in the story a little bit! if you ever wanna talk to me or have any extra questions or comments about the fic you can hit me up on my tumblr at raideroverboss :0)

**Author's Note:**

> this is the very first fic i've ever considered posting, please be gentle... i've been working on it for a few months and finally decided i should try and share it. i have no beta reader so i apologize for any spelling mistakes or words that are out of place!! tags will be updated as i go on and elliott is also a little more sad here because i like to torture my favourite characters
> 
> some stuff i've written in this fic are inspired by posts i've seen on tumblr and some other fics i've read on here, so credit goes to the awesome people where due. comments are appreciated!! i'd love to hear feedback so i can keep going with this fic.


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